Monday morning went by painfully slow, luckily too as we were short staffed due to the latest bout of norovirus rippling trough the staff. I was eating lunch- a simple tuna salad I'd made at home- when a massive trauma came in. A&E was always busy but this put normal procedures to a halt. Three stretchers sped past the small window I was peering out of and I dropped the fork with the piece of lettuce I had been nibbling on when I caught sight of it. There was no other way to explain what I saw other than red. Red everywhere. The beds were soaked with it and the trauma medics running alongside them were also. Not to mention the pools of blood lining the floors as they pass. Haphazardly I through the lid on my Tupperware container and sprinted out the door following it.
As I approached the distinct shouting became apparent when the lead trauma consultant barked out orders with groups of doctors each on their own patients screaming what they need from their teams.
"Anyone available I need you now! All hands on deck! Where is everyone?!"
Consultant Dr James Rush screeched out but all doctors ignored him. Only a student nurse, Steph I think her name is, had the balls to respond as she ran past with an IV fluid bag in her hand.
"They're all sick Dr Rush! Norovirus again" she didn't wait for him to respond, just got on with what she was doing. He didn't respond to her though, just huffed and sprinted to one of the beds when the monitor started to flatline.
"There's a bleed. I need someone to compress it." I watched on as he searched the room for anyone to help but they were all preoccupied with their own patients in critical conditions. He swept the room before his eye landed on me and narrowed. "You! What are doing?! Get over here and help!"
I panicked, my heart began to thud in the chest and I realised I had to admit why I was just onlooking.
"I-I can't. I'm just a pre-reg."
"I don't care! Get over here and save this mans life!" He roared at me and it spurred my legs forward without me asking them to. I looked over the patient to see a gushing wound on his abdomen.
"That's it. Now put your hands on the wound. Put pressure on it and don't let go until I say so." Dr. Rush's voice had softened as he murmured encouragement. I dove straight in, no gloves which was probably stupid, but a mans life was at risk, and pushed the wound down until I felt the gushing slow. No one really realised how sticky blood is. You don't normally see this much at any one time. Maybe if you cut your hand or something, but never this much. It's so viscous. I just stayed in place not moving as everyone around me shouted and demanded different things from their colleagues. I drowned it all out really as I studied the guy whom had my hands inside his abdomen.
He was really in bad shape. There were long gashes running down his dark skinned face but not bleeding too profusely. Probably would scar for life though. His eyes were closed and his full lips were parted slightly as the ventilation tube hung out of his mouth, breathing for him. His face actually looked almost peaceful. They must have given him so much morphine it knocked him out. Either that or he was already passed out when they reached him. His dark hair was ruffled and had a few twigs and leaves stuck in it so I can only imagine they found him in a forest or woods of some sort. I was going to continue studying him but Dr. Rush jumped me out of my thoughts.
"Pre-reg! Hop on, let's go! We need to get him into surgery now!"
"What? How?"
"Just jump on and sit on the bed. You can't remove the pressure. You're the only thing keeping him from bleeding out right now."
My body acted as if on autopilot, which I'm glad for since I don't really know what I would've done if I had to think about it. I swung one leg over the bed carefully and hoisted myself up with it trying to maintain the pressure I have on the wound. Once I was on the bed immediately we were off and they raced us down the halls to theatre 2.
The operation was long and arduous but I wasn't required for a lot of it. I had to keep my hands in and slowly remove them when asked to until they could isolate the bleed and clamp it. He was in surgery for 4 hours until they finally stop the bleeding and by then they had nearly replaced his entire blood volume in transfusions. He crashed once after they found the bleed and I'd removed my hands but then he stabilised. Turns out it was a gunshot wound. And they retrieved the bullet after securing the bleed.
Once I was no longer needed Dr. Rush told me I could leave and clean up, so I went to the scrub room and washed the blood off my hands. It took a while to get it out of my nail beds. I removed the blue disposable paper mask and hat they had gowned me with as we entered. The blood was all over my clothes so I would need to change before seeing any new patients. As I watched the thick maroon clots gurgle down the sink into the drain I couldn't help but think how silly and trivial it seemed to go back and do normal patient stuff when I literally just had my hands inside a mans abdomen. My hands were in him. But duty calls, so I trudged up from theatre 2 to the A&E staff room. As I shoved the door open the sight of my tuna salad strewn over the black leather chairs greeted me. Obviously I didn't close the lid properly. I scooped it all up, suddenly without an appetite and threw it in the bin. I switched the kettle on and headed to my locker. It's quite common for me to spill food over myself or to get vomited on during rounds so I always keep a spare change of clothes here. I pulled on the dark red dress and noted that it fitted a little more snug than last time. I've definitely put on weight. I wasn't skinny by any means, quite a chunky girl if anything. But I've always liked to think I'm not fat, just short. If I was taller it would all be a lot more spread out. But at 5'5 I wasn't talk which meant I did have a bit of a muffin top. My only redeeming feature really was that I had big boobs. An Irishman once came up to my mum and I while we were walking in the street and the only thing he said to us was "Christ you've got massive tits!" Then he walked off again, so it's pretty obvious as an E cup. It helps to have a little waist too- still thunder thighs, muffin top and bingo wings aren't a characteristic you want as a 22 year old. I should probably go on a diet again. Not Slimming world again, I'm so sick of them group sessions, having to share if you've lost or gained. Fuck that. Maybe Dukan that was good but it's bloody hard work. My thoughts of dieting were broken as the kettle clicked off. I made my way over to make a coffee, strong black no sugar and no milk. Mmm...
I gulped down the hot liquid barely noticing it burning my tongue and headed out to the nurses station. I tend to get on well with people I work with because I don't set myself in the hierarchy like the doctors. They like to think they're a league of their own and super exclusive, but i understand that nurses are just as much help and use in this hospital as them. Or at least that's what I tell them. So as I approached the desk to pick up the patient notes and gave a polite greeting to the charge nurse which she responded with in kind and went on my way.
After an hour of meeting with patients, doing drug histories, medicines reconciliation etc. I was onto Mrs. Horner. Mrs. Horner was 62 year old lady waiting for surgery on her hand. As I was about to ask her the strength of her amlodopine I was interrupted by a deep baritone.
"Excuse me, where is patient recovery?"
I peeked my head up to see a large gentlemen who I can only describe as one of the most attractive men I'd ever seen. His hair was jet black, fluffed at the front and short at the back. His shoulders were brutally broad and his hips narrowed at the waist but not too much as his hulking thighs fit his form perfectly. His skin was a tanned olive and shone under the hospital luminescence. He was gorgeous. And that's just the back of him. When he finally turned to face the rest of the wing, in the direction of the nurses pointing finger (I'm sure because she couldn't manage to get any other comprehensible sentence out) and trudged off in that direction. But it gave me a full view of his face; big pouty lips, a sharp nose, the most exquisite jaw line I've ever seen- so strong and dusted with a stubbly beard.
"Corr, I would." The comment broke me from my ogling and I realised it came from Mrs. Horner. I rose my eyebrows in shock at her comment, a reaction that I simply couldn't control and she just giggled and recoiled to my reaction with a "what? Wouldn't you?"
I just shook my head and continued to ask Mrs. Horner about her medications. She replied to each question, she really did know her stuff but she did continue to pester me about my shameless staring. "Ohh. Are you one of those lesbians? It seems all the kids are these days. Don't worry, I don't judge for it." I resisted the urge to say that by calling me 'one of those' she already had and replied in the pharmacist voice I had adopted for patients. I'd perfected it in my uni years, it's a bit like your customer service voice or like when your mum answers the phone mid-rant and suddenly speaks the queens english, even if she was cussing you out for something in language only a sailor would be comfortable with.
"No Mrs. Horner, I'm not a lesbian. But I'm not allowed to date patients either. How are you getting on with the new statins?"
"Oh hush dear. You know full well that he wasn't a patient, he's looking for one. So don't give me any crap. I've been around the block a few times, I know the drill. Grab life by the horns dear, you don't get a second try. Believe you me."
It was a sobering thought but only because it came with wisdom and experience. Because you knew she meant it. If any one my own age would've said it, I'd have rolled my eyes and dismissed it. But she was right, you don't get a second chance.
The mysterious man lingered in my thoughts for the rest of my shift. So much so that when I arrived home again I told every little detail to Jay, who had a field day with this information. He told me all about his date aswell and we spent the night just chilling together with a few buds before hitting the sack. However as I drifted off thinking about what I should buy my mum for her birthday present, it soon motors into images of my mysterious man.